


Resolutions

by delighted



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M, New Year's Resolutions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 00:18:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9265427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delighted/pseuds/delighted
Summary: Steve makes a New Year’s Resolution to hug Danny every day until he can work up the courage to kiss him instead.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just some silly fluff that wouldn’t leave me alone.... Happy New Year!

The first one was easy.

They’d all been together New Year’s Eve, at Steve’s place. The whole team, the kids, plus the usual extras. Steve had grilled fish (Kamekona'd critiqued it), Danny and Charlie had baked cupcakes (Grace had complained about their frosting methods and wound up helping in the end), and Adam and Kono had brought more booze than they could have possibly made it through (they were still in celebratory mode and doing everything they could to share it). Lou had made fried chicken (which Kamekona had praised), Jerry and Max had both brought sides (and wound up exchanging recipes). Chin brought sparklers and party hats (which Steve had loved and Danny had hated).

The point was, they’d all been together, just after midnight, and they'd all exchanged hugs. So, first one down, no problem.

The second hug had been easy as well. Danny and the kids had invited themselves, on the second day of the year, back to Steve’s house, to watch the Rose Parade live and uninterrupted on Steve’s super fancy TV package (which may or may not have been procured, as his Christmas present to himself, for just such an eventuality).

Just before six am on the second, a clearly sleep deprived Danny had practically fallen into Steve’s arms as he’d opened the door, which had taken care of the hug requirement, although Danny had hugged him again when Steve’d pressed a large mug of coffee into his hands.

When he’d brought out bacon and pancakes and laid it out on the coffee table, two sleepy Williams kids had perked up, and when Steve had given them mugs of hot cocoa (which were probably more whipped cream than cocoa), they'd both hugged him as well. Mentally adding regular hugs from Grace and Charlie to his wish list, Steve had smiled even bigger when Danny’d shaken his head in exasperation, but smiled as well.

On the third, they’d had a case, which had warranted a “thank goodness we made it through that okay” hug at the end. Steve might have drawn it out a bit longer than usual, but Danny hadn’t seemed to mind. Steve had started to think that this would be too easy of a resolution, and wouldn’t in fact push him to his real resolution of kissing Danny instead.

But the fourth had presented some problems. They’d all been pulled in different directions by various calls and ongoing projects, and Steve had hardly had the time to have a word with any of them, and had only fleetingly seen Danny across the room. They’d barely even waved.

Back to the grind, back to working too hard, back to not seeing each other enough, back to burying his feelings in the never-ending onslaught of pressing cases and dangerous situations and needless risk.... Steve spared himself a second to groan into his hands as he braced himself for yet another unpleasant task, and somewhere part of his heart protested this was why he’d come up with the resolution in the first place: so he’d finally get off his stubborn ass and _do_ something about his complete and utter lack of relationship with Danny. Well. The relationship he _wanted_.

He’d still been in the office at well-past-seven that evening, eyes hurting from frowning at his computer monitor as though it were to blame for him missing his hug resolution on just the fourth day of the year, when Danny had ambled in, bag of sandwiches in one hand, six-pack of Longboards in the other.

Danny’d told Steve he needed to at least take a break to eat, and Steve had been too surprised to resist. After they ate, Danny sat on the office sofa and read something on his phone while Steve finished up his work. It took him probably longer than it should have because he’d been distracted by the utterly casual way Danny had draped himself across the black leather—shoes off, those infuriating socks (purple polka dots that day) teasing him from beneath Danny’s dark blue dress slacks.

When they’d walked to their cars, Danny’d slung an arm around Steve in farewell, and it hadn’t taken too much for Steve to pull him into a hug and whisper: “Thanks, bud.” That had earned him a super sweet smile in return, which had given him rather sweeter dreams than he’d had in quite a while.

The fifth day of the New Year saw yet another death defying act by Steve, and he had, as a result, been on the receiving end of not one but _five_ hugs from Danny (most of them accompanied by a smack and harsh words about stupidity, pointless recklessness, and stronger words which Steve would not repeat in polite company).

January sixth, Steve spent the morning in bed, recovering from his injuries. But he made it into the office by the middle of the afternoon, where Danny caught him (in a hug) and shooed him back out the door, telling him to take the weekend and rest, and he’d see him on Monday.

Steve’s heart sank.

Six days. Not even a full week. Granted he had the five hugs from the day before, and technically, he supposed, he could count those, draw them out, use it like a savings system. He’d thought it might be a method he’d need to employ, when he had come up with the idea in the first place.

But his heart was having none of it.

He thought hard all the way home, and when he was nearly there, he had an idea, and turned back around and headed to the store. Once he got home and the groceries were unpacked, he sent a text to Danny, inviting him over for the playoff games that weekend.

_Sounds great. I’ll bring beer._

Steve’s heart lifted.

He spent the rest of the day alternating between prepping game day food and actually, for once, resting. He was getting old, he knew. His injuries hurt more, ever since that plane crash of Danny’s. It might have been part of why he’d come up with this resolution in the first place. His physical strength had always seemed indisputable, even if his emotional strength had lagged. But finding his physical strength wasn’t as all powerful as he’d always believed had shaken him, and he’d spent much of the past several months rethinking a lot of things. One thing had kept reemerging as central. One short, blond, besocked, and sassy thing.

Steve took a nap on the sofa, and woke up to a late-evening (and no doubt influenced-by-a-few-drinks) text from Danny.

_Hope you’re resting. Do you have sweets for tomorrow?_

He grinned as he texted back: _Of course. Who do you take me for?_

_Just checking._

Grimacing as he stood up and his body protested at his treatment of it, Steve thought briefly about eating, and decided a hot shower sounded a lot more fulfilling.

He didn’t sleep very well, but he wasn’t at all sure it wasn’t more to do with his anticipation of the weekend than aches from his injuries.

He woke with plenty of time for a swim and another long, hot shower before he needed to get the food in the oven and have it all laid out on the coffee table by the time Danny showed up, just before the first game started.

Walking in without a hug, Danny headed straight for the kitchen to put the beers in the fridge, then to the sofa where he admired the spread, and sank down on the cushions with an air that clearly stated he did not plan on moving much at all for the next many hours.

“How’re you feeling, babe?” He asked, as he tapped the cushion next to him.

Steve thought about lying. But he knew, as he sat kind of gingerly, that Danny would know—probably already did. So he didn’t.

“Not great, so resting this weekend with the games will be good for me.”

Danny froze, turned sharply to Steve, mouth slightly ajar. “Wow,” he whispered, clearly in awe. “This _is_ progress. Some kind of New Year’s Resolution?” He asked, as he wrapped an arm around Steve, pulling him softly against him in an almost protective move that made Steve’s heart skip several beats.

“Something like that,” Steve sighed as he allowed himself to lean into Danny.

They sat like that for most of both games, even though they got up several times for more food and more beer, and even to go outside for a bit at half time and between games.

But it wasn’t a hug.

Steve spent far too much time thinking about that, and if he could count it, or if he needed to find a way to get Danny in an actual hug. Danny kept a running commentary going on the games, and Steve kept finding himself caught out in the fact that he was distracted and not really paying attention—either to Danny or to football.

In the end, Danny made Steve stay on the sofa while he cleaned up, then said: “Don’t get up babe, I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” as he headed out the door.

And Steve was left without a hug.

Taking a breath so deep it hurt his ribs, he decided he needed to push his timeline forward. This was no way to live.

In yet another long and hot shower, Steve gave himself a pep talk he hoped would feel less hollow by the light of day. He slept fitfully again, this time he didn’t even try to blame his bruises. He knew it was his heart that was feeling the pain, and he knew it wasn’t just the lack of a hug that was causing it.

Danny showed up early the next morning, well before the first game. Steve had foregone his swim in favor of one more long, hot, pep-talk-full shower.

“How can I help?” Danny asked, as he restocked the fridge with more beer.

Steve was making coffee and had been about to put some coffeecake in the oven. He had planned to make eggs as well, but he wasn’t feeling up to it. He was starting to worry himself with his lack of concern about protein. 

“Slice some fruit?” Steve managed, pointing Danny in the direction of the bowl on the counter.

Danny looked momentarily perplexed, but nodded and set about cutting bananas and oranges into kid friendly bits. “I’m not touching that pineapple, Steven,” he muttered, bumping his hip gently into Steve’s thigh as Steve neared Danny's side of the island with a mug of coffee for Danny. Steve held still at the contact, set the mug down slowly, turned towards his partner, and smiled.

“Bananas and oranges are my favorite anyway,” he said softly, then went to put the coffeecake in the oven.

Danny gave him another odd look, then moved the sliced fruit to a plate Steve had set out, and carried it and his mug to the coffee table.

“You swim this morning?” Danny asked, his tone slightly strange, and Steve was vaguely aware that he should probably be suspicious. His head was too foggy for that though. He wasn’t sure what was going on with him, but he just couldn’t fake anything with Danny right now.

“Naw, wanted to get a start on the food for today,” he said as he sat down, a bit further from Danny than he had the day before.

Danny scooted closer. Set his mug down, and turned to Steve. “Babe, you doing alright?” He asked, voice a mix of concern and something Steve didn’t try to identify.

He sighed. “I haven’t been sleeping very well,” he admitted. Steve usually slept like a log, even when he was hurt, and he knew Danny knew that. Danny, who never slept very well.

There was that odd look again. “Why’s that, babe?” He asked, picking his coffee back up and taking a sip.

_Because I can’t stop thinking about wanting to kiss you....._

Steve really hated his mind sometimes.

But then again, maybe he didn’t. Because he could swear Danny looked just exactly as though he’d heard what Steve had said.

Danny took Steve’s cup from his hands, set both mugs down, and took Steve’s hands in his own.

“So,” he started, while Steve held his breath. “I made this New Year’s Resolution....” Danny trailed off, looking down at his hands, then back up at Steve—making him gasp with the intensity he saw shining there.

“Yeah?” Steve breathed swiftly in. Then out. “I did too.”

Danny bit his lip. “I know. And, I’m wondering if we made the same one.”

_Oh, please, oh, please!_ Steve’s mind helpfully joined in.  

Pulling firmly on Steve’s hands, Danny brought them closer together. They met exactly in the middle, eyes open and searching, hands squeezing so tight it hurt. It was more an exhalation with lips touching than a real kiss. They sat back, eyes wide, hands still holding tight.

Steve was not breathing, again. “Yeah, I think we did,” he huffed out on a nervous laugh.

“Good,” Danny replied, then pushed Steve back against the sofa, pressing into him, and kissing him for real this time. “Because I’ve never kept one before, and I really wanted to know what that felt like.”

Steve managed to say: “Me too,” before he was lost in the sensation of everything that had been keeping him awake at night.

It took the smoke detector going off in the kitchen to bring them back to the surface. Throwing the charred remains of coffeecake away, they laughingly moved on to beer and chips and dip, which would provide no further fire danger, and wound up ordering pizza when they got too hungry for chips. Neither one of them would be able to say, the next day, who’d won either game. And neither of them cared one bit.

2017 was looking like it’d be a good year.


End file.
